


An Act of Defiance

by Mouse9



Series: Always 1895 [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 1895, Crossdressing, F/M, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29990193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: Day Five of Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2021- "How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with. How dare you betray the love of your friends.  Say you’re sorry!”Sherlolly, but make it Victorian
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Always 1895 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205948
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42
Collections: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2021





	An Act of Defiance

The years after Anderson had been dismissed left a distinct lack of a much needed assistant in her Morgue which had left her overworked and often more ill-tempered than usual. In year two of Holmes’ three-year exile, a suggestion had been brought to her by way of the elder Holmes brother, there was a young women, a part of the Baker Street Irregulars, who was in need of a respectable position. Being part of the Irregulars in her aged state was now a dangerous occupation as more than once men had offered for her and enraged by her dismissal, had tried to beat her insolence from her only to be stopped by her fellow Irregulars. Handing the reins over to the next generation, she now found herself in need of steady employment. Being of strong constitution and utterly loyal to the Holmes made her the perfect assistant. The fact that the elder Holmes would be paying her salary helped as well. 

And thus, Billie Wiggins was placed in Hooper’s Morgue, stoking fires, cleaning and sweeping and assisting with the moving of bodies when needed. It was hard and labor intensive and the Board didn’t approve of a young woman working in the Morgue where her delicate sensibilities would be harmed. A few well-placed words disabused them from that notion and they soon left her alone.

It was a quiet afternoon in the Morgue, no bodies to examine, no bodies at all as the local mortician had collected them all that morning. Molly was in her office working on orders and supplies and paperwork and Billie was in the main room sweeping when the doors burst open and a gaggle of people entered all loud noises and shouting. 

Recognizing the group, Billie dropped her broom and hurried to get a chair. The commotion brought Molly from her office and she paused at her doorway, starting in shock.

“What in the devil is going on?” she demanded. 

Watson pushed a wobbly Holmes into the chair Wiggins had provided, then stood, his mouth set in an angry line. 

“I need you,” he said with exaggerated calm. “To test Holmes’ blood for drugs.”

Molly blinked, then began to move. “Wiggins, fetch the syringe kit and the rubber tie.”

Holmes blinked around blearily, his gaze landing on the young woman and grinning foolishly. “Wiggins, my dear girl. I had heard you’d retired. No idea you’d ended up here. Is our dear irritable Dr Hooper treating you well?”

The young girl, used to seeing Holmes strung out on cocaine in her previous occupation, hurried to do Hooper’s bidding. Behind Watson, Mrs. Mary Watson, large with child, stood gazing about the room, a sword held lazily in her hand, which she would swish upward towards Holmes if he even moved in a way that meant he was thinking of getting up. 

Molly returned with the microscope, a bowl, several slides and a myriad of other instruments needed to test for drugs. Wiggins returned with the syringe and Molly prepared it while Watson held Holmes down in the chair, his hands clamped tightly on his shoulders. 

Finding a clear vein was impossible as Molly finally got a good look at the inside of Holmes’ arm. Cleaning a section, she finally located a spot and inserted the syringe, drawing back the plunger to extract the blood. Holmes turned his head lazily to watch, his eyes dark and mischievous. 

“The extraction of blood. Stoker’s vampire novel is all the rage. Did you know that the inserting of fangs and extraction of blood has been likened to penetration of the female by the male during intercourse?”

“Holmes!” Watson shouted appalled. Mary merely raised an eyebrow. Molly looked up at him as she extracted the needed from his arm and cleaned away the blood.

“Then it is telling, Holmes, that I am the one doing the penetration.”

A choked laugh came from Mary while Watson looked on horrified. Holmes blinked, then grinned slowly. 

“Hoo-“

“Not a word Holmes,” Watson insisted. “Not. A. Word.”

* * *

The hour passed slowly as Hooper tested the blood. Wiggins offered another chair for Mrs. Watson who accepted gratefully, the sword now settled against the wooden leg. Watson’s grip had lessened on Holmes’ shoulder and he was now standing beside his wife, talking quietly, yet still standing between Holmes and the door. Holmes, for his part, had stood and was leaning rather drunkenly against a table. 

Hooper washed her hands and stretched her back, catching the attention of Watson.

“Well? Is he unhindered?”

Hooper glared at Watson. 

“Is he unhindered?”

Spinning on her heels, she raised a hand and slapped Holmes in the face. The sound rang out in the large stone room catching everyone’s attention. Another slap followed, and then a third, which finally seemed to attract Holmes’ attention. He ran a hand over his cheek, now red with handprints. 

“Say you’re sorry.” Hooper snarled, the tone of her voice fluctuating between her own and that of her alter ego. “You dare throw away these wonderful gifts God granted you with? You dare spit upon the love of your friends. Apologize Holmes!”

Working the muscles in his jaw, he cracked his neck and finally looked at her. “Would you like to take me out at ten paces as well? I say Hooper, everyday you become more the man you wish to be.”

“Stop it,” she snapped, fists clenched in anger. 

“Be very careful with your next words.” Mary said still sitting but her tone warmed of consequences should he continue with that line of thought.

The silent stand off between Hooper and Holmes lasted a moment longer, before he snorted derisively and turned.

“I have a case, I told you Watson, this was important. You are wasting my time with this…act.”

Pushing past everyone, he stalked out of the Morgue and down the hallway. Once gone, Mary looked up at her husband. “You should go after him, my love.”

With a nod, Watson was out of the Morgue as well, leaving the three alone. Mary looked at the other two. 

“Wiggins, would you be a dear and find me a cup of tea?”

“Of course, mum.” The young woman curtsied and hurried out of the large room. Molly had turned and began cleaning up the equipment. 

“He doesn’t mean it, you know.” Mary said quietly. “That quip he made, he doesn’t mean it.”

“Holmes means everything he says.” Molly snapped back, slamming a metal bowl a little too hard on the table. Mary stood, grunting with the effort, and moved towards the doctor. 

“If you think that, then you don’t know Holmes as well as you think. And we both know that isn’t true. He slaps with his words just enough to make people back off. He slaps harder with those he cares about.”

“Then why me?” Molly sniffed angerly. She felt Mary’s warm hand on her shoulder.

“My dear, you know the answer to that as well.”


End file.
